


Family in all but Blood

by GateOfTheSettingSun



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: 12 Days of Carnival, Family Feels, I made Jopson depressed from childhood u know, I only got a Ao3 account now so that's why I am posting this now lol, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jopson dies, M/M, Mild Swearing, sadness and a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23963089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GateOfTheSettingSun/pseuds/GateOfTheSettingSun
Summary: Stuff I wrote during the 12 Days of CarnivalDay 12 (Dec 24): be inspired by the fandom-created wish list!The wish I picked was: “I’d like to propose some kind of Crozier and Jopson father-son moment :) I love them both so very much!”some father-son time. Also enjoy the new Terror lads Ethan, Jack, and Oliver who are there for a bit of comedy in the sadness.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames (implied), Captain Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson (parental)
Kudos: 9





	Family in all but Blood

”Why do you think the captain would make his son a steward? Shouldn’t he be able to make him an officer or something?”

A sudden silence fell over the table where Ethan was sitting eating with his mates. They were all staring at him, most of them frowning.

”Cause you know… he’s the captain” Ethan explained. The continued silence made him increasingly nervous. Was there something he didn’t understand? Wasn’t it a tad odd to be the steward for your own father?

”What, Jopson? Are you talking about Jopson?” Jack asked loudly, getting the attention of the tables around them. Jopson himself did look over his shoulder at the other end of the Mess as well before following the captain to his room. Oliver shushed him while shaking his head at what nonsense Ethan was speaking.

”They’re not related Ethan” Jack informed the other who seemed genuinely surprised.

”But I thought-”

”No, shut up Ethan, Jopson isn’t even Irish” And that was the end of that conversation.

As Captain Crozier entered his cabin Jopson followed. Some described him as a loyal dog and not meaning anything positive about it. They didn’t hide their thoughts in Jopson’s company, even though most of the crew didn’t care, but he didn’t say anything to them. They didn’t mention it in the captain’s company though, as that merely a week ago had resulted in a yelling that they could hear on Erebus. Jopson did think of himself as loyal. Of course he was loyal. It was something a tad bit deeper than that.

\---

Jopson didn’t know who his father was. His mother didn’t know who his father was. But his mother didn’t speak nicely of him. Jopson didn’t say that he had a bad childhood, he didn’t want to blame his mother, but he had wished for more when he had just been a boy. He had a friend named Jacob back then and sometimes he would come over in their home. His mother was so nice, she would always stroke their cheeks and give them a bun to fill their empty stomachs after a long day of playing. Jacob’s father was a large and loud man, but always happy. He could lift them like they were nothing. Despite their hardships, they were a happy family, full of love. Oh, how Jopson envied them. Despite his mother’s words, he liked making up stories about his father. What kind of man he was, more importantly, what kind of father would he be for Jopson.

Sometimes Jopson would find a quiet place in London to sit. It was often after he had been over at Jacob's and had to walk home. On an October evening where it was dark and quiet, he would sit there in the lamplight. No one was out and about, no one would bother him. There he would sit and dream of what his father might be like. His father would come on one of those large ships that could be spotted in the harbor. He had been out traveling the world and that was why he first came home now. One of those ships decorated in gold and with a beautiful figurine at the bow. And his father would come walking down the cobblestone, most likely on his way home to Jopson and his mother. His father would spot him there on the bench and know it was his son. And he would open his arms as Jopson jumped off the bench and ran towards him. Running right into those arms, wrapping his own around his father’s neck tightly while his father held him. For a long time they wouldn’t say anything, just hold each other and Jopson’s father would say his name over and over. Jopson looked at his father and wished his mother could see him, see how beautiful and tall his father was. Wearing one of those blue beautiful uniforms with lots of shiny medals. He sort of looked like Jacob’s father, just more beautiful.

His father would tell how he had missed Jopson, how he had laid awake every night wanting to return to his son. Then he would offer Jopson to come to his ship and show him all the wonders of the world. Jopson felt as if he didn’t say yes he would surely die. Everything here was wrong and should be left behind. He wished he could explain to his mother what had happened, then she would surely stop saying bad things about Jopson’s father. Jopson had known those bad things weren’t true! And he would o on the most wonderful adventures with his father. They would laugh together, they would dine together. His father would read books for him, his father would hold him. Jopson would get to laugh and talk all he wanted, he would throw his clothes around so the room was messy, and he would jump on his bed. His father would love him anyway. Never again would he be yelled at after making too much noise and dragging dirt inside. His would teach him so many things, would show him the very world. And they would be together forever. Who would have thought that Jopson had such a wonderful father? But he did and he cared so greatly for his father, as his father cared for him.

But his dreams would fade away as he sat there on the cold bench and noticed how the light was turned on in Jacob’s home. And through the window, he would see Jacob sitting there eating dinner with his father and mother, talking and laughing. And Jopson would feel terribly alone. No ship and no father would come and he would go home and his mother would yell at him for being late for dinner. Then he would crawl to bed and cry, filled with longing.

\---

Maybe his old daydreams had an influence on why he saw Francis Crozier as a father figure. He had a ship, had seen a great deal of the world. Not as many medals nor as tall but that was not what mattered to Jopson. He cared greatly for Francis, like the father he never had but always dreamed of. Maybe Francis would never know but that didn’t matter to Jopson. Having found someone he could see as his father had lifted such a heavy burden off him.

When one day those daydreams morphed into Francis Crozier. It was not as perfect as some of those stories nor the same kind of hero, but those did belong to boyhood dreams. Francis was a good man through and through. How he cared for the crew. He was horribly melancholic. In some ways, a broken man but he had his reasons. None of it made Jopson dislike Crozier. But he would keep the fatherly feelings for himself, he was sure it would leave the other a bit speechless.

But it meant his worry was twice as great. Seeing Francis drunk always worried him as it had worried him with his mother. Francis would ask Jopson to sit with him, share a drink with him. Jopson had never touched the stuff and Francis said that he was glad that he could watch out for Jopson when the lad now had his first drink. Francis told the strangest stories those evening before he sends Jopson off to bed. Though it was enjoyable, Jopson was happy that Francis wanted to stop. Jopson was worried, seeing Francis at his worst made him sad. Reminded him of his mother crying, something you as a child, no matter the age, didn’t know how to handle. He never wanted to see the man in such a state again.

Jopson wasn’t proud to admit that he had let it slip one time. He had gotten too comfortable. But Francis really shouldn’t start backtalking a certain second to Edward Little who simply came to report. ”Father.” He had warned over his shoulder, though pausing in slight horror. Francis had groaned and admitted that he shouldn’t have talked as such. He wanted to hear the report but Edward had resembled a small shocked animal that had no idea how to react to what he heard. At least Edward wasn’t one for gossip.

\---

”Whom you reckon the mum would be?” Ethan asked his mates as they had a small break from working outside.

”Again with your nonsense, Ethan shut your-” Oliver shushed on Jack who frowned even deeper than the last time.

A voice reached them. ”For god’s sake Francis!” and they watched James Fitzjames correcting Francis Crozier’s uniform while Francis blushed with both anger and embarrassment and Jopson grinned in the background.

Never had Ethan, Jack and Oliver had quite a laugh like that before.

\---

And as Jopson had cared for Francis, so did Francis care for Jopson. In the tent, when Jopson was at his worst as Francis had been. As a father watching over his sick child.

”You’re a good lad, Thomas” Francis spoke as he stroke Jopson’s hair.

The sentence brought tears to Jopson’s eyes, for never had he gotten such words from his true father but this moment meant more. Jopson felt as if a burden had been lifted off him, and he had found a father figure to truly admire. While Francis would never be aware of how Jopson thought of him as a father, nor would Jopson ever get the chance to hear Francis call him son.

For as Francis found Jopson laying dead on those sharp rocks, a greater sadness took hold of him. He had wanted to see Jopson survive, he had wanted the boy to live and grow should it cost his own life. Weakly falling into a sitting position beside the thin broken corpse Francis grimaced as tears escaped his eyes. It should have been him. No child should die before their parent.

”My son! My fucking son!” Francis howled in sorrow and pain, throwing a rock at nothing.

Lady Silence stared back at him waiting, as she watched Francis cradle the corpse and weep for his son in all but blood.


End file.
